From Saint Ignace to Bayfield
I left the Boardwalk Inn and Saint Ignace at 5:30 AM and started one of the longer driving stretches on my driving tour. It was time I headed for Bayfield, WI on the northeast side of a peninsula that juts out into Lake Superior, the largest and deepest of the Great Lakes. The drive was uneventful, except for the fact that I saw only 3 vehicles on the two lane road I was traveling during the first 100 miles of my trip. Although my travels took me along the northern shores of Lake Michigan and the southern shore of Lake Superior, I did not stop for photo shoots. I arrived in Bayfield at 12:00 PM EDT, but because I crossed the time line when I crossed into Wisconsin, it was only 11. There was a young man in charge of the registration desk at the Harbor’s Edge Motel and he informed me that I could not check in until 2 PM. That left me time to drive around and explore where the golf course was and the Big Top Chautauqa Tent where Gaelic Storm would perform Friday evening. I found Morty’s Pub on the main drag in Bayfield and enjoyed the first of several whitefish based meals. In this case, it was a sandwich that tasted quite good with a draft of Spotted Cow, one of my favorite Wisconsin beers brewed in New Glarus way to the south of this very northern fishing and tourist town in Wisconsin.
As instructed, I returned to the motel at the requested time and found a crusty, but gentle older woman manning the desk. I had her name once, but it escapes me now. In addition to her crusty ways, she had a fetching sense of humor that created a fun environment for checking in, if such a disposition Is even possible for this mundane event. This motel is an older structure that looked well preserved from the outside. It was directly across the harbor from where the Ferry departs for Madeline island all day and every day in warmer seasons. My registration buddy gave me two keys for Rm. 4 located around the side of the main building and just up the stairs. Once more I was faced with dragging my belongings up a flight of stairs, but unlike the Boardwalk Inn, it was just one flight. My heart rate caught a bit of a break this time. So I get to my room, put the key in the lock and feel great resistance. The keys (both of them) refused to turn either way. At first, I thought I had the keys to the wrong room, but such an easy solution was not the case. When I returned to my crusty friend, she informed me that this door always causes this particular problem. You just have to work key for a few minutes, and it will eventually connect with the insides of the lock that I had now discovered had a mind of its own. She then informed me that she leaves the office by 8 PM every night and no one can help me if I cannot get the door lock to cooperate. Being the nervous and glass half empty guy that I am, I conjured up the vision of me sleeping in the car until the crusty older woman (wish I could recall her name) showed up the next morning. She assured me that it just takes some time for the key to work. I said, “why doesn’t the owner fix the lock? She said something to the effect that such a solution would make sense, but the owners were not available on the busiest weekend of the summer. I am responsible for the last few words of the previous sentence, not my crusty friend.
OK, end of a long story. I learned how to work the key most times over the next three days, with only one failure on Saturday morning when the housekeeper used her master key to open the door for me in a matter of two seconds. The tumblers respond well to the master, but not to the serf keys. With that knowledge, I did not lock my door for the rest of my stay. I trusted that all my valuables would be there when I returned to the room, and sure enough they were. Lesson: Do not raise your blood pressure over keys that fail. However, someone should fix the damn locks. I use the plural, because the couple in the room next to me had the same problem.
So you ask, “How did the rest of your stay go?” Actually, it was most enjoyable with a few glitches here and there. I had booked an evening cruise viewing the Apostle Islands. The boat left at 5:30 on a three hour cruise passing by numerous islands of trees and rock that the captain said provided various types of lumber resources and stone materials for a variety of industries, including military uses. To be honest, from the point of view we had from the cruise ship, if you saw one island from the deck of the boat, you saw them all. However, many of the islands were camping meccas for those unlike myself who were willing to experience the natural beauty of the islands by staying on them. The only island with permanent residents is Madeline Island, but more on Madeline later. After almost two hours of wind, spray, rocks and forests, we did come to Devil’s Island with a working and extremely important light house and carved out structures called sea caves (OK, we are on a lake, but Superior sure looks like a sea) that have been shaped over the centuries by the action of the water and winter ice on this malleable sandstone rock. There are several photos below that display the unique and interesting shapes of these caves. Unfortunately, there was one small child who screamed and cried quite loudly after spending three hours on a boat with limited access to the world around him. I felt sorry for his parents and for him, but the weight of the boat would sometime shift as the passengers attempted to move to other sections of the boat to escape the loud cries of this little guy. One wonders what possessed the parents to bring a small child on this venture, but for whatever reasons, they added some sound effects to the melodious voice of the captain as he read directly from a manual while driving the boat (At other times, someone else steered while he read). There was a second captain who spoke sometimes and steered the boat other times, or joined the two female deck hands who switched places every once in awhile between the colder and open upper deck and the enclosed lower deck. In any event, despite these little anomalies, I am glad that I went on the cruise between and around the Apostle Islands. It gave me some photo opportunities, but more importantly, I could now say that I had sailed a bit on Lake Superior, the topic of many folk songs and stories of shipwrecks I had heard over the years.
When I returned, I went back to Morty’s for the whitefish basket and two Spotted Cows. After a long day, I returned to my room where it took me five minutes to get the lock to work, but I was happy. I was not destined this evening at least to sleep in my car. I wonder if you can imagine what I was feeling when the lock would not turn for minutes and then all of a sudden without warning would release and my I felt like I had won the lottery. My room, by the way, was fine. It was large and comfortable. No complaints about the room. And no complaints about the location.
Photos from the Apostle Islands
I left the Boardwalk Inn and Saint Ignace at 5:30 AM and started one of the longer driving stretches on my driving tour. It was time I headed for Bayfield, WI on the northeast side of a peninsula that juts out into Lake Superior, the largest and deepest of the Great Lakes. The drive was uneventful, except for the fact that I saw only 3 vehicles on the two lane road I was traveling during the first 100 miles of my trip. Although my travels took me along the northern shores of Lake Michigan and the southern shore of Lake Superior, I did not stop for photo shoots. I arrived in Bayfield at 12:00 PM EDT, but because I crossed the time line when I crossed into Wisconsin, it was only 11. There was a young man in charge of the registration desk at the Harbor’s Edge Motel and he informed me that I could not check in until 2 PM. That left me time to drive around and explore where the golf course was and the Big Top Chautauqa Tent where Gaelic Storm would perform Friday evening. I found Morty’s Pub on the main drag in Bayfield and enjoyed the first of several whitefish based meals. In this case, it was a sandwich that tasted quite good with a draft of Spotted Cow, one of my favorite Wisconsin beers brewed in New Glarus way to the south of this very northern fishing and tourist town in Wisconsin.
As instructed, I returned to the motel at the requested time and found a crusty, but gentle older woman manning the desk. I had her name once, but it escapes me now. In addition to her crusty ways, she had a fetching sense of humor that created a fun environment for checking in, if such a disposition Is even possible for this mundane event. This motel is an older structure that looked well preserved from the outside. It was directly across the harbor from where the Ferry departs for Madeline island all day and every day in warmer seasons. My registration buddy gave me two keys for Rm. 4 located around the side of the main building and just up the stairs. Once more I was faced with dragging my belongings up a flight of stairs, but unlike the Boardwalk Inn, it was just one flight. My heart rate caught a bit of a break this time. So I get to my room, put the key in the lock and feel great resistance. The keys (both of them) refused to turn either way. At first, I thought I had the keys to the wrong room, but such an easy solution was not the case. When I returned to my crusty friend, she informed me that this door always causes this particular problem. You just have to work key for a few minutes, and it will eventually connect with the insides of the lock that I had now discovered had a mind of its own. She then informed me that she leaves the office by 8 PM every night and no one can help me if I cannot get the door lock to cooperate. Being the nervous and glass half empty guy that I am, I conjured up the vision of me sleeping in the car until the crusty older woman (wish I could recall her name) showed up the next morning. She assured me that it just takes some time for the key to work. I said, “why doesn’t the owner fix the lock? She said something to the effect that such a solution would make sense, but the owners were not available on the busiest weekend of the summer. I am responsible for the last few words of the previous sentence, not my crusty friend.
OK, end of a long story. I learned how to work the key most times over the next three days, with only one failure on Saturday morning when the housekeeper used her master key to open the door for me in a matter of two seconds. The tumblers respond well to the master, but not to the serf keys. With that knowledge, I did not lock my door for the rest of my stay. I trusted that all my valuables would be there when I returned to the room, and sure enough they were. Lesson: Do not raise your blood pressure over keys that fail. However, someone should fix the damn locks. I use the plural, because the couple in the room next to me had the same problem.
So you ask, “How did the rest of your stay go?” Actually, it was most enjoyable with a few glitches here and there. I had booked an evening cruise viewing the Apostle Islands. The boat left at 5:30 on a three hour cruise passing by numerous islands of trees and rock that the captain said provided various types of lumber resources and stone materials for a variety of industries, including military uses. To be honest, from the point of view we had from the cruise ship, if you saw one island from the deck of the boat, you saw them all. However, many of the islands were camping meccas for those unlike myself who were willing to experience the natural beauty of the islands by staying on them. The only island with permanent residents is Madeline Island, but more on Madeline later. After almost two hours of wind, spray, rocks and forests, we did come to Devil’s Island with a working and extremely important light house and carved out structures called sea caves (OK, we are on a lake, but Superior sure looks like a sea) that have been shaped over the centuries by the action of the water and winter ice on this malleable sandstone rock. There are several photos below that display the unique and interesting shapes of these caves. Unfortunately, there was one small child who screamed and cried quite loudly after spending three hours on a boat with limited access to the world around him. I felt sorry for his parents and for him, but the weight of the boat would sometime shift as the passengers attempted to move to other sections of the boat to escape the loud cries of this little guy. One wonders what possessed the parents to bring a small child on this venture, but for whatever reasons, they added some sound effects to the melodious voice of the captain as he read directly from a manual while driving the boat (At other times, someone else steered while he read). There was a second captain who spoke sometimes and steered the boat other times, or joined the two female deck hands who switched places every once in awhile between the colder and open upper deck and the enclosed lower deck. In any event, despite these little anomalies, I am glad that I went on the cruise between and around the Apostle Islands. It gave me some photo opportunities, but more importantly, I could now say that I had sailed a bit on Lake Superior, the topic of many folk songs and stories of shipwrecks I had heard over the years.
When I returned, I went back to Morty’s for the whitefish basket and two Spotted Cows. After a long day, I returned to my room where it took me five minutes to get the lock to work, but I was happy. I was not destined this evening at least to sleep in my car. I wonder if you can imagine what I was feeling when the lock would not turn for minutes and then all of a sudden without warning would release and my I felt like I had won the lottery. My room, by the way, was fine. It was large and comfortable. No complaints about the room. And no complaints about the location.
Photos from the Apostle Islands
Madeline Island and the Gaelic Storm
The next morning (Friday), I took a chance and locked the door again as I unhinged by bike and wandered across the street to the Ferry for the 8:45 departure to Madeline Island. Now, you should know Madeline Island is no Mackinac Island. It is quiet and peaceful and offered me the opportunity for a solid workout on my bike as I did about a 14 mile journey out to the State Park at the center of the island and then returned to the port by an alternative route. It was a pleasant ride, quite flat, which permitted me to get my heart rate up to a good steady pace. When I arrived at the park, largely for campers, I was told by the park attendant that I could ride by bike on the paved areas in the park, but that I was welcomed to hike any trails that I wished. There was no charge for entry into the park, so I decided to explore whatever part of the park I could on my bike. I found the lookout point and took some photos there, including some shots of some young campers exploring some of the small cliffs protecting the shoreline from Lake Superior. I then went on another paved roadway to the small beach in the camping park. There was no one there, but I found some driftwood with interesting shapes that I thought might work for black and white photos.
I then headed back to the harbor village of La Pointe and went in search of an ice cream cone. I could not find one. I should have asked, but did not. There may have ice cream on Madeline Island, but my inability to stop and ask someone the ice cream question once again limited my exposure to the island. I returned to Bayfield around noon time and this time went to the Pier Plaza for the Bayfield version of a Philly Cheesesteak, appropriately called the Wisconsin Cheese steak. It was served with homemade potato chips, which I have come to enjoy the few times that I have had them.
I needed a short nap after these morning and noontime experiences. I was looking forward to seeing Gaelic Storm at the Big Top Chautauqua Tent. The afternoon went by slowly and about 45 minutes before I was to meet a the Shuttle pick-up, I stopped and had a Spotted Cow and some onion rings at Gruenke's, the ancient restaurant and lodge in the heart of Bayfield. I felt guilty about ordering one more fried snack, but I discovered I could limit my fried intake by taking a single bite out of the ring and then securing the internal onion in my teeth and pulling it out for the nice sweet onion taste. Needless to say, my plate looked like I did not eat any of the rings, but I felt good about self control. I tried to talk with the bartender a little, but was unsuccessful. It was a very busy place. When the shuttle arrived there were too many of us and so the driver said he would return for the left overs in a few minutes. Three of us were left and we struck up a nice conversation. I had seen this couple on the boat the night before, but now we had a little time to talk. They were from England, but worked in the Minneapolis area. I suppose they will go back to England soon, but they spend a lot of time traveling when not working. This was their first time in Bayfield too.
Our driver returned and left us off at the Big Top Tent in plenty of time. My seat was in the middle and except for the big fellow in front of me for the first half of the show, I could see fairly well. I took many photos with my Canon Camera and although the photos are silent representations of a moment in time in the concert, I hope you get a sense of the energy Gaelic Storm put into its show. We saw a group of five: Steve Twigger on guitar; Patrick Murphy, accordion, lead singer, and comic; Ryan Lacy on various drums: Peter Purvis on a mean whistle; and Kiana Weber with a vibrant fiddle, a beautiful face, and a graceful ability to transverse the stage engaging with other members of the group. She reminded me of the fiddle player in the Celtic Women. There are some solo shots of the group below with identification captions. It was a fun evening. They promote genuine crowd participation and communicate a happy and rollicking form of traditional Irish music and more contemporary rock. I never had to move from my seat to snap my photos. If I had moved from my seat, I would have been stopped by friendly but tenacious security guards. Staying in one place did not hinder me from taking shots with the terrific zoom capability of my camera. In addition, I became a participant in the concert by clapping my hands and moving my musically inspired body with the tunes. Ah, what a sight. The show ended about 9:30, we caught the first round of shuttles to take us back to Bayfield. I was in a very good mood and was rewarded with the best night of sleep I have had had on my trip.
Photos of Madeline Island and the Gaelic Storm
The next morning (Friday), I took a chance and locked the door again as I unhinged by bike and wandered across the street to the Ferry for the 8:45 departure to Madeline Island. Now, you should know Madeline Island is no Mackinac Island. It is quiet and peaceful and offered me the opportunity for a solid workout on my bike as I did about a 14 mile journey out to the State Park at the center of the island and then returned to the port by an alternative route. It was a pleasant ride, quite flat, which permitted me to get my heart rate up to a good steady pace. When I arrived at the park, largely for campers, I was told by the park attendant that I could ride by bike on the paved areas in the park, but that I was welcomed to hike any trails that I wished. There was no charge for entry into the park, so I decided to explore whatever part of the park I could on my bike. I found the lookout point and took some photos there, including some shots of some young campers exploring some of the small cliffs protecting the shoreline from Lake Superior. I then went on another paved roadway to the small beach in the camping park. There was no one there, but I found some driftwood with interesting shapes that I thought might work for black and white photos.
I then headed back to the harbor village of La Pointe and went in search of an ice cream cone. I could not find one. I should have asked, but did not. There may have ice cream on Madeline Island, but my inability to stop and ask someone the ice cream question once again limited my exposure to the island. I returned to Bayfield around noon time and this time went to the Pier Plaza for the Bayfield version of a Philly Cheesesteak, appropriately called the Wisconsin Cheese steak. It was served with homemade potato chips, which I have come to enjoy the few times that I have had them.
I needed a short nap after these morning and noontime experiences. I was looking forward to seeing Gaelic Storm at the Big Top Chautauqua Tent. The afternoon went by slowly and about 45 minutes before I was to meet a the Shuttle pick-up, I stopped and had a Spotted Cow and some onion rings at Gruenke's, the ancient restaurant and lodge in the heart of Bayfield. I felt guilty about ordering one more fried snack, but I discovered I could limit my fried intake by taking a single bite out of the ring and then securing the internal onion in my teeth and pulling it out for the nice sweet onion taste. Needless to say, my plate looked like I did not eat any of the rings, but I felt good about self control. I tried to talk with the bartender a little, but was unsuccessful. It was a very busy place. When the shuttle arrived there were too many of us and so the driver said he would return for the left overs in a few minutes. Three of us were left and we struck up a nice conversation. I had seen this couple on the boat the night before, but now we had a little time to talk. They were from England, but worked in the Minneapolis area. I suppose they will go back to England soon, but they spend a lot of time traveling when not working. This was their first time in Bayfield too.
Our driver returned and left us off at the Big Top Tent in plenty of time. My seat was in the middle and except for the big fellow in front of me for the first half of the show, I could see fairly well. I took many photos with my Canon Camera and although the photos are silent representations of a moment in time in the concert, I hope you get a sense of the energy Gaelic Storm put into its show. We saw a group of five: Steve Twigger on guitar; Patrick Murphy, accordion, lead singer, and comic; Ryan Lacy on various drums: Peter Purvis on a mean whistle; and Kiana Weber with a vibrant fiddle, a beautiful face, and a graceful ability to transverse the stage engaging with other members of the group. She reminded me of the fiddle player in the Celtic Women. There are some solo shots of the group below with identification captions. It was a fun evening. They promote genuine crowd participation and communicate a happy and rollicking form of traditional Irish music and more contemporary rock. I never had to move from my seat to snap my photos. If I had moved from my seat, I would have been stopped by friendly but tenacious security guards. Staying in one place did not hinder me from taking shots with the terrific zoom capability of my camera. In addition, I became a participant in the concert by clapping my hands and moving my musically inspired body with the tunes. Ah, what a sight. The show ended about 9:30, we caught the first round of shuttles to take us back to Bayfield. I was in a very good mood and was rewarded with the best night of sleep I have had had on my trip.
Photos of Madeline Island and the Gaelic Storm
Golf and the 4th of July Fireworks
Somewhere in the middle of the concert, I decided to play golf on the scenic Apostle Islands Golf course the next day. I went early, got on the course immediately and finished in two and half hours. No one was in front of me or beind me, the whole way. I played fairly well for me, but the golf tees (we call them senior tees) were up closer than what I am use to. At any rate, I scored around an 86. I say around because it was probably higher. At any rate, I hit some good shorts and captured a few ideas for how to improve this older guy's game in the future.
Before I went in search of a place for breakfast I returned to my room and for the first time was unable after what seemed a lifetime of trying to get the key to work. I asked the lady who cleans he rooms, If she could get me in. She took out her master key and to my chagrin, easily opened the door. From that moment on, I did not lock my door for the rest of my stay.
Because I was back in Bayfield by 9:45, I went to breakfast at the Egg Toss. My Wisconsin Omelet was to die for and if I was a frequent visitor to Bayfield, I would be there often in the early morning. I tried to do some shopping, but that is a non-motivating activity for me and ended up buying a single tee shirt. The rest of the day was a rather lazy one. I sat for awhile on a park bench looking at the harbor and sucking on another ice cream cone. I went for a walk on the Brownstone Path that borders the Lake for several miles. I did not follow it all of the way, but I did capture some shots of waters and flowers along the way. I walked up the rather steep hill to attend Mass at Holy Family Church. I always like to go to new churches when I travel. Nothing in the building wowed me, but you could tell that the regulars were a committed congregation. How does one know? They sing the hymns. I went back for another round of whitefish, this time at the Pier Plaza where I chose a glass of red for a change over a glass of beer. It was 6 PM with almost four hours to go before the fireworks. I spent some of the time sitting with Bob from Sheybogan, Wisconsin, on the porch of the Harbor's Edge Motel. His family has been coming to the Harbor's Edge Motel for many years, renting as many as two or three rooms for a visit. I was suffering from a lack of family on this holiday, even feeling bit of melancholy during my bench sitting at the park earlier in the day. However, having a nice conversation with Bob and his wife Rue relieved some of those down feelings. As it grew darker, I moved around shooting scenes of people waiting for the big bangs. I even tried to capture a group of kayakers approaching the safety border near the barge from where the missiles were about to be launched. I will probably include a photo of one or two kayakers, though I anticipate grainy results. Once the fireworks began on a barge just off the Bayfield Harbor Pier, I tried to shoot some stills, but with little success. I switched to the movie mode and captured a few minutes of the spectacular displays. It was impressive, particularly because of another fireworks display on Madeline Island in the background. Bayfield visitors get a good show and they showed their appreciation.
I was planning an early start for Minneapolis the next day and I had already put some of my stuff in the car. My time in Bayfield was coming to a close, but I felt good about choosing to spend time in this old fishing, but now tourist town of the far Wisconsin north. I particularly thank my friend Ann in Madison for her enthusiastic recommendation several months ago. Little did I know that my talk with Bob and Rue had started the process of addressing one of my goals for the trip: To engage people I do not know in conversation. My Sunday drive to Minneapolis was filled with little serendipitous engaging conversations that I will share in the next section. Can you hardly wait?
Bayfield on the 4th: Note I may be able to post a maximum of 15 seconds of the fireworks on this page, but I have some work to do before I can add the movie to the post.
Somewhere in the middle of the concert, I decided to play golf on the scenic Apostle Islands Golf course the next day. I went early, got on the course immediately and finished in two and half hours. No one was in front of me or beind me, the whole way. I played fairly well for me, but the golf tees (we call them senior tees) were up closer than what I am use to. At any rate, I scored around an 86. I say around because it was probably higher. At any rate, I hit some good shorts and captured a few ideas for how to improve this older guy's game in the future.
Before I went in search of a place for breakfast I returned to my room and for the first time was unable after what seemed a lifetime of trying to get the key to work. I asked the lady who cleans he rooms, If she could get me in. She took out her master key and to my chagrin, easily opened the door. From that moment on, I did not lock my door for the rest of my stay.
Because I was back in Bayfield by 9:45, I went to breakfast at the Egg Toss. My Wisconsin Omelet was to die for and if I was a frequent visitor to Bayfield, I would be there often in the early morning. I tried to do some shopping, but that is a non-motivating activity for me and ended up buying a single tee shirt. The rest of the day was a rather lazy one. I sat for awhile on a park bench looking at the harbor and sucking on another ice cream cone. I went for a walk on the Brownstone Path that borders the Lake for several miles. I did not follow it all of the way, but I did capture some shots of waters and flowers along the way. I walked up the rather steep hill to attend Mass at Holy Family Church. I always like to go to new churches when I travel. Nothing in the building wowed me, but you could tell that the regulars were a committed congregation. How does one know? They sing the hymns. I went back for another round of whitefish, this time at the Pier Plaza where I chose a glass of red for a change over a glass of beer. It was 6 PM with almost four hours to go before the fireworks. I spent some of the time sitting with Bob from Sheybogan, Wisconsin, on the porch of the Harbor's Edge Motel. His family has been coming to the Harbor's Edge Motel for many years, renting as many as two or three rooms for a visit. I was suffering from a lack of family on this holiday, even feeling bit of melancholy during my bench sitting at the park earlier in the day. However, having a nice conversation with Bob and his wife Rue relieved some of those down feelings. As it grew darker, I moved around shooting scenes of people waiting for the big bangs. I even tried to capture a group of kayakers approaching the safety border near the barge from where the missiles were about to be launched. I will probably include a photo of one or two kayakers, though I anticipate grainy results. Once the fireworks began on a barge just off the Bayfield Harbor Pier, I tried to shoot some stills, but with little success. I switched to the movie mode and captured a few minutes of the spectacular displays. It was impressive, particularly because of another fireworks display on Madeline Island in the background. Bayfield visitors get a good show and they showed their appreciation.
I was planning an early start for Minneapolis the next day and I had already put some of my stuff in the car. My time in Bayfield was coming to a close, but I felt good about choosing to spend time in this old fishing, but now tourist town of the far Wisconsin north. I particularly thank my friend Ann in Madison for her enthusiastic recommendation several months ago. Little did I know that my talk with Bob and Rue had started the process of addressing one of my goals for the trip: To engage people I do not know in conversation. My Sunday drive to Minneapolis was filled with little serendipitous engaging conversations that I will share in the next section. Can you hardly wait?
Bayfield on the 4th: Note I may be able to post a maximum of 15 seconds of the fireworks on this page, but I have some work to do before I can add the movie to the post.
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